La Cumparsita
by Imperial Mint
Summary: The instructor came in, and Yamato was hauled back some fifteen years ago, back to a tiny room with the sun bearing down through the windows. Echoes of laughter rang in his ear (back when he'd had all his hearing) and his breath caught in his throat as he remembered strong hands, a voice humming in his ear and lips brushing against his cheek. KakaYama.


**Pairing:** Kakashi/Yamato  
 **Notes:** Unbetaed so all mistakes are my own! This was inspired by an artwork by upn-the-sky on tumblr of Kakashi and Yamato dancing the tango. I noted they wanted fanfic in their tags so, well, I had to deliver, even if this might not be to their fancy. I also took a headcanon of theirs in that Yamato is partially deaf so I hope that is okay. I think everyone should write tango aus personally. :D Also the title is apparently the most famous tango composed.

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He didn't know why he was here, not really. Yamato looked around the room and sighed, trying not to feel too self-conscious. Most of the men were dressed down, T-shirts and comfy trousers all round, and it seemed only the women had bothered to follow the same memo as Yamato. He resisted the urge to press bring his hand up to his ear, a nervous tick he'd had ever since he's started using his hearing aid, and clenched his fists together instead.

Yamato didn't really know why he'd come. Naruto had been pestering him to do something after his last hobby had fallen through (though Naruto had been the one to choose the pervious hobbies too, so why Yamato had trusted him again he had no idea) and it just seemed like the right time to try and do something. It had been a while since he'd taken a tango class, yes he'd taken them before, and Yamato was rather looking forward to it. Enough so that he'd dressed up a little, shirt and smart trousers, and he wondered who his partner might be. Everyone else seemed to be here as a couple already, and an uneasiness fell in Yamato's stomach.

As he talked to a few people, Yamato noted that they all seemed distantly friendly. It was only casual conversation, introductions really – he didn't want to be the black sheep completely. The ones who didn't seem snooty were shy, and only one or two seemed genuinely interested in saying hello to Yamato. That was okay though, Yamato had resigned himself to the thought that he'd be paired with the instructor anyway. And he didn't have to come back to this class after this session anyway, even if he felt like sticking with tango.

The instructor came in, and Yamato was hauled back some fifteen years ago, back to a tiny room with the sun bearing down through the windows. Echoes of laughter rang in his ear (back when he'd had all his hearing) and his breath caught in his throat as he remembered strong hands, a voice humming in his ear and lips brushing against his cheek.

Yamato caught himself and looked down, hiding his wistful smile. That was a long time ago now, and he'd changed so much from his university days. It looked as though Kakashi had too – he was older (obviously), but time had been kind to him, softer. He looked weary, but his smile was bright, teeth flashing as he grinned at his class.

It made sense why Naruto had been so insistent on Yamato joining this particular class. Naruto was friends with Kakashi, talked about him often in fact, but Yamato had never really listened. After all, Naruto talked a lot. He knew there had been some acquaintance between Kakashi and himself, and clearly Naruto had made it his duty to put them back in each other's paths.

"Welcome everyone," Kakashi said, and Yamato looked back up. Kakashi wasn't looking at him, but with the way he held himself, taunt, as if he was about to spring into action, Yamato knew that he knew he was there. He smiled to himself, thinking that not bringing a partner and dressing smartly had been a good plan all along.

"We have a few new members," Kakashi commented lightly, his eyes sweeping the group. A young couple waved, both women who were dressed in light flowing dresses, and then his eyes set upon Yamato.

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock that passed through his body. It had been years – years! – since he'd thought of Kakashi in anyway more than simple fondness, but there was a spark that ignited in him when he caught Kakashi's gaze. He lowered his eyes, offering a smile, and the tiny pause in Kakashi's welcoming speech was passed over, in favour of him discussing the more technical part.

They were in an advanced class and so there was no need for basic instruction. Instead, Kakashi discussed the music they'd be dancing to, listing a handful of well-known tangos and some that Yamato had never heard of. He spoke calmly, his voice smooth and low, and Yamato resisted the urge to close his eyes and let himself drift, back to the studio when they'd been so young and in university together.

"I brought that song!" someone called out, and Kakashi nodded slowly. Apparently the person had been dying to show the class a particular song, and today was the day.

When it came to pairing up, Yamato had been right in his assumption he was the only partner-less person there. It had never bothered him when he'd gone to various activity classes before, but now Yamato felt hopelessly nervous, worried even, and mentally traced through various tango steps. He was out of practice, but Kakashi wasn't, and he couldn't bear to disgrace the memories he had of them perfectly in synch.

"The song will come on shortly, everyone get into a comfortable position," Kakashi said, nodding for Yamato to join him by the music station. He was silent as he flicked through his iPod and found a playlist titled 'Dancing With the Dogs (and Yamato delighted in that, Kakashi's ridiculous habit for obscure names hadn't died).

"It's good to see you," Kakashi said, which surprised Yamato a little. They'd parted amicably, no wishes to stay in contact or regrets, so it was strange to hear a hint of longing in Kakashi's voice. It had been a while since Yamato had thought of Kakashi properly, but his feeling hit him full force now, as he looked in to Kakashi's dark eyes, his hands moving from his iPod to lead Yamato to the edge of the group.

There was silence throughout the room as pairs separated slightly. The room was large enough to accommodate them all, and Yamato glanced at Kakashi as he stepped close, nodding slightly to the left, an old signal that Yamato would be leading the dance.

The staccato of a violin over a slow piano began to sound throughout the room, and Yamato felt everything melt away from him. He straightened, mirroring Kakashi perfectly, closing the space between them with neat, small steps.

In perfect time, Yamato slid his hand against Kakashi's ribs, just as Kakashi's palm closed softly on his shoulder. Their other hands clasped tightly, fingers locking, and their bodies moved close together as the low Spanish guitar purred throughout the room.

It was like riding a bicycle, Yamato mused, and he fit seamlessly against Kakashi, even after so many years of being apart. He took a deep breath and they moved fluidly, feet tapping against the ground delicately as Yamato led them through the dance, pushing Kakashi away gently before pulling him back, nose brushing his cheek as he closed his eyes, yearning rising inside of him as the song built up around them, music flowing in through every pore.

Kakashi let out a small breath of air as he ducked his head forward, hand moving from Yamato's shoulder to the back of his neck. He was only there a moment, but the moment was enough for Yamato to shiver with anticipation, twisting his upper body as the violin played.

This was seduction, Yamato thought, in its purest form. The violin faded as Kakashi moved back, head moving to the side and exposing his neck. Yamato pulled him back, unwilling to let him go as the piano took on a darker note, the violin plucking with anticipation. He wanted to pull Kakashi even closer, to take in how he smelt and how he felt under Yamato's hands, but the dance twisted and turned away, and he manoeuvred them through a series of complicated, twisting steps, legs pressing flush against each other. Kakashi shot him a low glance, and it was full of such intensity and heat that Yamato almost faltered.

This was the Kakashi he had somehow forgotten about. This was the Kakashi he had parted from so many years ago, the Kakashi that he had willingly left for so many years. The decision seemed foolish now, and Yamato let his hand rise up to brush Kakashi's shoulder, his neck, his cheek, before it buried itself in Kakashi's hair, turning him gently to the side and smoothing through gently, a gasp escaping Kakashi's lips before he could stop it.

The song began to close, and Yamato pulled Kakashi close, his arm slipping to wrap around his broad shoulders. Kakashi's forehead rested against his own, though slightly to the side, and Yamato almost couldn't bear to meet his gaze. He did though, and heat blazed through him as if they were teenagers again. Only Kakashi had ever made Yamato feel this way, and the last notes of the song faded with them still pressed together.

There was an odd silence in the room, and Yamato reluctantly lowered his hands. He was flushed, a little sweaty even, and the fact that most of the other couples seemed to be transfixed with them only served to make him feel more uncomfortable.

"That," Kakashi said, a soft smile on his face, "is how you dance the tango."

They didn't dance again that class, though Yamato continued on, moving through the class to offer help and dancing with a few others. None of them reached the intensity his dance with Kakashi had, though, and he found himself watching Kakashi as he too moved through the class. His mind was full of Kakashi, and Yamato found he really didn't mind at all.

When the class drew to a close, Yamato had thoroughly enjoyed himself. The others were much warmer towards him now, even invited him out for after-class drinks, but Yamato refused, eyes darting towards where Kakashi was sorting out the music system and licking his lips. They seemed to understand and smiled delightfully, one even going so far as to wish him luck.

"I didn't realise you were still dancing," Kakashi said, and music began to fill the room, a soft accordion that Yamato recognised. This had been their last song, the one they'd parted ways to, and he stared at the outstretched hand Kakashi offered him.

It took a moment, but the music flowed through Yamato and he smiled, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He could remember the day they'd both moved out of their shared apartment, how bittersweet their final dance had been. They'd never made any commitments or promises, and parting had been what they'd needed to do. Seeing Kakashi's steady hand showed Yamato what they could have now, and he took it firmly, pressing it against his side firmly and leaning in.

They danced with ferocity. When Kakashi lead them through slight dips and twists, Yamato followed perfectly. He tilted his head, pressed flush against Kakashi, pulled back and danced around him to the swell of violins and accordions. They moved quickly, and when the music finally fell to silence, Yamato's chest was heaving, Kakashi in a similar state.

"I missed you," Yamato said, the admission a surprise even to himself. They are still close, close enough that if they move a tiny fraction closer their noses with brush, and Yamato looks into Kakashi's eyes slightly cross-eyed. "I just didn't realise that until today."

Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, and Yamato moves to kiss him. Their kiss is like their dance, a whirlwind of passion and calm, a gentle press of lips that builds until Yamato breaks away gasping, eyes wide and his entire body on fire. He smiles as Kakashi walks them backwards, bodies flush against each other, and wraps his arms tightly around Kakashi's shoulders, stroking his hair softly.

"I missed you too," Kakashi said, and he kisses Yamato again, as if Yamato is his only lifeline.

It's only when Yamato's knees start to go weak that they separate again, and Kakashi is quick to catch Yamato's hand as the sound of piano and violin washes over them. His eyes flicker to Yamato's ear and he resists the urge to bring his hand up and cover it. If there was anyone who understood, it was Kakashi. The scar over his eye has faded, but it was still there, and while the time had passed, Yamato didn't think they'd changed all that much.

"Come to mine," Kakashi said, and Yamato stilled for a moment. It wasn't perhaps the smartest thing to do, but he wanted to go. He didn't want to leave Kakashi so soon after finding him again, and he nodded slowly, offering a shy smile.

"I don't want…" Kakashi began, and he smiled, shaking his head. "I mean I do, but not now. I just want you, to talk to you and to get to know you again."

Yamato understood and he stroked the back of Kakashi's hand with his fingers, eyes warm as he made a mental note to thank Naruto when he next saw him.

"I'd love that," Yamato said softly, wondering how he'd ever walked away from Kakashi. Even after so many years they were still in perfect synchronisation, and there was nothing but passion, respect and love in Kakashi's eyes.

Sometimes, Yamato reflected as they left, pressed against each other and laughing despite the bitterly cool evening, it took years to find someone you connected with, and Yamato knew that he wasn't going to let go this time as easily.

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